So Little Time
by MyDearestDarling
Summary: A case that did not end well returns to haunt Diane, not only endangering her life, but the lives of those she loves the most.
1. Chapter 1

"Diane, someone is here to see you." Marissa poked her head through the door.

"It's 8:30, I'm just about to leave. It'll have to wait until tomorrow." She stacked the last of her paperwork and gave an apologetic smile.

"He seems fairly insistent." Marissa smirked as she stepped away from the doorframe to let the man through.

"Well, you usually don't need an introduction." She paused her packing and smiled in the way that is reserved strictly for him.

"You looked busy." Kurt kept eye contact with his wife until he remembered that Marissa was still standing in the doorway. Diane followed her husband's gaze.

"That'll be all, Marissa."

She looked between the pair and left the room, unable to hide her audible chuckle.

Silently, they moved toward each other like magnets and Diane wrapped her arms around Kurt's shoulders. He turned his head until he was able to place a kiss on her hairline just below her ear.

"I've missed you," her voice breathy, but sincere. She drags her hands from his back until they are softly resting on his chest, his strong arms wrapped around her thin frame.

"Three days seems like a lifetime anymore," She continues, "How was your flight?"

"Long."

She smiled at his usual silence, but knows that he just wants to take her in. Moving in together brought on a routine of seeing each other everyday and they have grown rather fond of that closeness.

"I missed you too." His eyes traced her facial features as though it had been years since they were last in this position.

"Then let's go home." She said before gently kissing his lips, holding back her desire until they were at least somewhere without glass walls.

A slight knock on the door jolted them from their reverie.

"So sorry, but Diane you actually have a visitor." Marissa looked a bit unsteady, causing Diane's red flags to rise. But, she suppressed them and backed away from Kurt's embrace.

"Who is it." She inquired. Who would stop by this late without calling or making an appointment?

"The husband of a client."

"Which client?"

Marissa shrugged her shoulders. Diane let out a sigh and motioned to bring the man in.

"I'll give you second." Kurt exited her office. Something within her almost made her ask him to stay, but she pushed away the uneasiness. It was probably just her emotions adjusting to the fact that he was back home.

A tall, lanky man stepped through her doorframe, the look on his face accentuating his sunken eyes. Diane could already smell the smoke from God knows what he had been smoking before entering the building. Sleep deprived and high, he shut the door.

"Hello, Sir. What brings you here so late?" Her not-so-subtle feeling of annoyance entering her voice.

"Annette Baker." The man stood frozen in space staring down Diane. "My wife."

"I see. Would you like to sit down?" Diane gestures to the chair in front of her.

"No."

His voice was sharp and cold. Diane took a step back, hitting the front of her desk. She sat back on the edge and swallowed.

"Mr. Baker we did our best to fight the medical insurance..."

"She was dying." He spat.

"I know. The procedure is illegal in the United Sta—" Her attempt to appease him was futile.

"Don't hit me with that bullshit. I saw it happen. And you just watched her die and moved on to the next case. You're a heartless bitch. Both of you. She was suffering, it was torture!" Diane dug her fingers into her desk, her heart beginning to pound. She considered yelling for Marissa, but feared that would make the situation worse.

The case had been pointless from the beginning. A doctor treating a woman with a rare, parasitic disease, which she had devolved overseas, needed a procedure that is illegal in the United States. The husband and patient were in favor of the surgery and the doctor, who went to school with Diane, had performed it before, outside of the US. However, he did not want to lose his license, so he hired Diane and Maia to argue against his insurance company in hopes that they would grant temporary permission. The procedure had a forty percent chance of saving the woman's life and the insurance company used that statistic for leverage. Contrary to the man's harsh words, Maia and Diane fought for the woman's life, but were rejected in the end. Annette Baker died six days later.

"We tried, Mr. Baker. The law just wasn't on our side." Diane's voice was far weaker than she expected.

"You people killed her." He lowered his voice to a growl. "She had a chance. And you took that from her."

"If you'd just listen—"

What happened next was something Diane could never have prepared for. Her sentence was cut short by pain unlike anything she had felt before. A cold blade collided with her abdomen and was immediately withdrawn, leaving her breathless. Her eyes blurred, but fell on the blood-covered knife the man held in his hand.

"Suffer."

With his last word, he wrapped the knife in his coat and exited the office, leaving Diane to clutch her stomach. There was so much pain spreading throughout her body that she couldn't make a sound. Her internal scream was not loud enough to escape her mouth. She slid to the floor, doubled over.

"What was that about..." Kurt opened the door, "Diane?" He kneeled next to his wife and pulled her arm, revealing a bloody hand.

"You're bleeding—" she sat back against the front of her desk, a dark red splotch covering the center of her blue dress.

"Oh my God, Marissa!" Kurt yelled over his shoulder.

She swung the door open at the sound of his frantic tone. The scene before her caused her breath to hitch.

"Call an ambulance!" He directed, taking off his jacket and piling it on top of her wound. Her eyes were starting to glaze, taking Kurt's worry to the next level.

"You have to stay with me, honey, you're going to be fine." His big hand pushed the hair from her forehead. Her temperature was rising. With one hand firmly pressed to her abdomen, he reached for the glass of water on her desk and poured it on his sleeve. He held it to her forehead in hopes of lowering her temperature.

"Talk to me, Diane. Anything. I need you to stay with me."

Her clouded vision worsened, the pain was almost too much to bear. She felt like sleeping, vomiting, and screaming all at once. Two tears fell from each eye as her breath turned labored and she began to gasp.

"It...hurts..."

"I know. Look at me." He kept his cold sleeve on her face, "It'll be over soon."

"I...can't..." Her face contorted in sheer agony. The numbness was beginning to set in and she could feel herself slipping. Kurt knew it too.

"Damn it! Where are the paramedics!" Halfway asking and halfway shouting into the void.

"Coming up the elevator!" Marissa called from outside.

Noticing that Diane's eyes had closed and her body had gone limp, Kurt scooped his lifeless wife up off the floor and carried her into the hall. The paramedics were racing toward him, a trail of blood taking shape behind the pair. He slowly placed her down on the gurney not letting his hand leave her abdomen.

"She's lost a lot of blood. A stab wound. Right side of her stomach."

"Can you lift your hand, Sir?" The paramedics were in place with gauze and an oxygen mask, waiting for Kurt to let go.

His mind swirled. He couldn't let go. If he did, would he lose her forever? A groan from Diane snapped him back into reality and he slowly removed his hand. The team jumped into action and began covering her wound for transportation. Diane's cry broke through as they put pressure on her abdomen, sending her into a state of pain-induced unconsciousness. Kurt's heart broke at the sound of her sob. The stretcher moved toward the elevator, Kurt and Marissa in tow.

After exiting the building, Diane was loaded into the ambulance and Kurt climbed in beside her. She was fully unconscious at this point and the paramedics were pumping blood into her system, trying to make up for the amount she was losing. Kurt stayed back, but never took his eyes off her. He couldn't remember ever seeing her this frail.

The paramedics got to a point where they were content with her fairly stable condition and they began documenting their work. Kurt took her pale hand in his and closed his eyes.

"Don't leave me. We promised." He whispered at a level that only the two of them could hear. "I love you."


	2. Chapter 2

_It's the night of Kurt's accident. Husband and wife, though they wouldn't exactly refer to themselves as such at the moment, are seated on the floor in front of the steady fire. Diane drifts in and out of sleep as she rests her head on Kurt's chest. The living room is dim with a few candles scattered throughout._

Diane woke up from her latest dozing session. The warmth from the fire combined with Kurt's presence is enough to trick her into thinking that everything is normal. But they are so far from normal, she hasn't a clue how they will find their way back. The butterflies in her stomach are restless and she is still reeling from the adrenaline that pumped through her veins when she got the call. She's brought back to reality by Kurt's shift, obviously still sore. She sat up and rested her weight on her hands.

"If we stay on the floor much longer, I don't think we will be able to get up." Diane picked herself up off the floor and reached out a hand to help him stand.

He cringed at first, a dull pain lingering around his bruises, but stood to his feet with little assistance. She kept her fingers intertwined with his and pulled him toward the stairs. His pace was slower than usual, but his pain medication was preventing him from moving any faster.

The bedroom was pitch dark, the power outage not lifting anytime soon.

"What a night for the power to go out," Diane pushed him toward the bed and he willingly sat.

"There are matches in the...yea," Kurt began, but she beat him to the drawer. She remembered. She remembered everything thing about this room, having spent many nights within its walls. Her feet moved quietly across the floor as she returned to his side, gauze and fresh bandages in hand.

"Tell me if I hurt you." She looked him in the eye, he could barely see the shadow of the weariness etched into her face. This had been a long road for Diane and today's stress and emotions did not give her a second to breathe. But she was breathing now. Carefully, using her breath to steady her hand as she unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. Kurt kept his eyes locked on her face. The desperation of wanting to offer a thousand apologies was agonizing. Diane glanced at his face, reading his level of pain thus far. He nodded slightly and she continued peeling off the bandage covering the stitches on his collar bone.

"I still can't believe you were thrown to the ground and only came out with a concussion, 15 stitches, and bruised ribs." She shook her head, pouring the solution on the gauze pad.

"I suppose it could have been a lot," He sucked air through his teeth at the sting of the alcohol, "Worse."

"I'm sorry." She instinctively pulled back.

"No, it just stung. It's ok." He stated, sitting up a bit straighter to show her he was fine.

Diane resumed her task of cleaning his wound and successfully secured the new bandages. Before she let him put his shirt back on, she wanted to assess the damage for herself.

"Wait. Let me see your bruises." Kurt turned his body sideways, revealing the colorful skin covering his injured ribs. Diane caught her breath, the sheer force of the accident becoming clear.

Reaching out a hand, she ran her fingers over his side and onto his back. At a spot near his spine, she attempted to turn him further to get a better view, causing Kurt to let out an audible reaction of discomfort. Diane recoiled instantly covering her mouth with her hands.

"I'm so sorry..." tears began to fall down her cheeks leaving gray makeup streaks in their wake.

"It's alright, really," he took her into his arms and pulled her onto the bed beside him, "It's alright."

"No it's not! Kurt, I was scared to death when I got that phone call. I couldn't breath the entire drive to the hospital." She sat up and wiped her eyes, "This is not something you should have to go through. This is not the life we planned."

Her last sentence struck a nerve in both their hearts, the multiple meanings as clear as glass. Silence fell upon the pair.

"Look, can we _please_ make a deal to stay out of the hospital for now? Nothing dangerous. Nothing stupid." He laughed at her words, "I just don't think my heart can take it at this point."

"You have to promise me, too." He pushed her hair from her eyes and smoothed it down the side of her cheek.

"Ok, deal." Finally smiling, Diane helped Kurt put on his shirt and the two laid in the candlelight for the rest of the evening until sleep took over.

—

"I didn't see him for long. I guess he was tall and thin, taller than me and I am 5'11''. He was wearing a hat. Jeans." Kurt's memory was clouded. He replayed her agonizing cries on repeat. "That's all I've got right now."

Without a second look, Kurt walked away from the police officer and over to the hospital's front desk.

"Is she out of surgery yet?" This was his third time asking the same nurse the exact same question.

"Mr. McVeigh, please be patient. We will let you know when there is a development. For now, please wait over there."

He couldn't sit still. He paced and paced, making all the waiting room inhabitants nervous, until he heard his name.

"She's out of surgery and stable. She's currently in ICU, but you may sit with her. The doctors can tell you more." Kurt's eyes were wide and longing for more information, "Follow me."

Rounding the corner, the sound of alarms filled his ears as three nurses scrambled into one of the far rooms. It's didn't take long for Kurt to realize they were rushing into Diane's room.

"Her blood pressure is low and her heart rate is dropping." He heard one of the nurses call over her shoulder.

"It's the wound; she needs fluid."

Kurt's first instinct was to run toward the room, but felt a strong arm in his way. The nurse held his shaking body back as the door to Diane's room was shut.

"Wait here." The nurse gestured to the chair a few feet away as she took over the nurses' station. But he couldn't sit. Not with the thought of her wrapped in wires and the sound of beeping machines swirling brought his head. His stare faltered and shifted to the floor. Kurt stayed, locked in that place for what felt like hours until the door was opened once more. Without thinking, (there is no time to think in his position) Kurt's feet took him toward the end of the hallway.

He paused, briefly, before entering the room, unsure if she could take the sight waiting for him past the wall.

Diane looked up from the IV in her arm, where the nurse was securing the needle. Not expecting to see her husband in the door, she tilted her head and smiled as wide as she could. Which, judging by her groggy, morphine-induced state, barely even made it to her lips. Kurt lingered by the door, eyes locked with Diane's. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and take her far from the suffering she was obviously enduring. The nurse finished taping her IV and, with a warning to not move to much and call if she needed anything, exited the room.

A small sigh escaped Diane's mouth as she was unable to exhale through her nose due to the oxygen helping her body recuperate. That was all he needed, moving quickly to the chair next to her bed, taking his hand in hers. They sat like this, neither knowing what to say, beyond thankful that Diane was alive and clutching his hand.

Eventually, Diane opened her eyes stating, "I don't want to know who it was or how it happened. Things are pretty fuzzy right now," She could barely speak above a whisper, despite her efforts, "But I do remember you kneeling in front of me. Trying to stop the bleeding."

Kurt bowed his head and placed a small kiss on her hand.

"Thank you," tears burned her cheeks and she didn't resist gravity as they fell, "I might still be laying on that floor if you hadn't caught an early flight."

Using his thumb he gently wiped her tears, Diane leaning into his palm.

Kurt didn't have words. Of course, he usually is on the quiet side, but this was a different silence. His fear of breaking down if he spoke even a word was overwhelming. Diane knew this, too. The way he was looking at her, taking in her tired, pale features told her everything she needed to know.

The wheels of a nurse's cart could be heard approaching Diane's room and the couple composed themselves as much they could, given their evident trauma.

"We have to change your bandages, Ms. Lockhart."

Diane nodded and laid back, preparing her body for the pain that would undoubtedly follow this necessary task. Kurt sat back in his chair, giving the nurse space to maneuver. She began unbuttoning the front of Diane's gown, but paused and gave Diane a knowing look, nodding toward Kurt.

"Oh, he's seen me naked enough times, I think he can handle one more." A slightly larger smile, than her previous attempt, spread across her lips and she reached out her hand to Kurt. He folded her fingers between both of his hands.

Her abdomen was numb, but she could still feel the sting of the bandages leaving her skin. Wincing and shutting her eyes as the nurse cleaned the wound and stitches, Diane's grip on Kurt's hands tightened.

He made the mistake of letting his eyes wonder down to the exposed laceration. Turning away immediately, Diane caught his glance. He had seen plenty of crime scenes, plenty of stabbing and gunshot wounds, but the realization that this had happened to her was far too much to digest.

"Is it bad?" She asked tentatively.

Kurt sighed and moved closer, speaking for the first time since entering her room, "You're going to be just fine, sweetheart."


	3. Chapter 3

"And the Moseley case?" She asked, tentatively, fearing they had lost after she surrendered head council.

"Settled for two million." Marissa stated, eager to tell her boss the good news.

Diane's jaw hit the floor and her eyes were the size of golf balls. "No," she gasped. If it weren't for the dull pain in her abdomen, she would have bent over laughing with pleasure.

"Maia took over and we found buried evidence. It sort of took care of itself from there." Marissa was relieved to see any emotion other that pain radiating from Diane.

The trio walked, albeit slowly, down the hall. Kurt on Diane's left, his hand in her's, and Marissa bouncing along next to him. Diane stayed close to the wall, just in case a bout of pain were to hit her and cause her balance to falter. For the past three days, she and Kurt had made this very same loop, per doctor's orders. At first, Kurt kept his arm around her waist. She couldn't stand without wincing, let alone move unaided. After about three sets of laps, she transitioned to linking her arm with his, having to rest every 15 minutes from the pain. Both his hands would surround her small one and every so often, he would look down at her face to make sure her features hadn't twisted in agony. Now, here they are, making their way through the fifth lap of Diane merely holding his hand for moral support rather than physical. Slowly recuperating, Diane did as she was told in hopes of being released at the end of the day. Marissa had dropped by to fill her in on cases and let her know that her clients had been informed of her condition. They understood, as any normal person would, and had sent sickening amounts of flowers to her hospital room.

Marissa chatted away, not realizing that Diane was focusing on her own thoughts. A wave of dizziness, undoubtedly brought on from the pain medication and antibiotics pumping through her bloodstream, sent her reaching for the railing on the wall and squeezing Kurt's hand. He didn't panic, though his mind went wild with concern, and grabbed her arm. Placing a hand on her back as she waited for her blood pressure to return to normal. Marissa stepped in front of her to prevent any further unbalance.

"You alright?" Kurt gently smoothed his hand up and down her back.

"I've been better. I can't wait to be off these meds," she chuckled and continued her walk back to her room.

Reclining on her bed, Marissa spread out new case files on the table.

"So, this young woman has just been accused of conspiring with extremist groups to—"

"Oh no, no, no." Kurt didn't let her finish the sentence.

"Kurt, it's fine. I'm just listening." Diane pleaded.

"Later. Maybe, and I mean maybe, when you are released. Just take it easy." Kurt shook his head, not willing to budge.

"He's right. I'll bring these over when you get to go home." Marissa gathered the briefs and put them back in her bag.

Diane sighed, not having enough energy to protest, "Thanks for coming, Marissa." They exchanged smiles and Marissa gave her ankle a squeeze, exiting the room.

"I need to get out of here. I'm going insane." Diane stared at the ceiling.

Kurt muffled his laugh and walked to the side of her bed. Leaning down and kissing her forehead, Kurt sat down on the edge to face her. Diane had never seen him in this state. Scared to death. She pushed herself into a sitting position with her arms. Kurt let her attempt the task on her own, careful not to overstep his boundaries.

"I'm ok. Really." Diane spoke quietly, rubbing his leg once she got settled. He tucked a stray blonde curl behind her ear, letting his palm linger on her cheek.

"Ms. Lockhart. It's good to see you a bit more lively. How's the pain?" Dr. Mince waltzed into the room, clipboard in hand, a nurse in tow.

"Dull at the moment." She gave a far more confident smile than her emotions were ready for.

"Good. Your numbers are normal and your blood work came back clean. Cindy will talk to you about changing your bandages at home and I'll go grab a discharge slip."

"I get to go home early?" Diane was doing a summersault inside.

"I think you're at a point where Mr. McVeigh, here, can take care of you without us hovering around." Dr. Mince pat Diane's foot and closed the door.

"I hate to ask you to stand, but I need to show Mr. McVeigh where to put the bandages and it is far easier if you are upright."

Diane summoned her newfound energy and began the process of standing. Kurt stood to the side, knowing she would want to try this on her own. Finally swinging her legs off the bed, she realized that she didn't have the strength to stand the remaining distance in her own. Kurt, watching her like a hawk, held out a single hand. Diane took it and he pulled her to her feet. The nurse went about showing Kurt exactly where to place the bandages and at what time to change them. Before they knew it, the pair were in the car, Kurt at the wheel, driving to the safety of their own home.

Pushing the front door open, Kurt helped his wife up the outside stairs, one by one, and into the foyer.

"I don't think I have ever been so happy to be home in my entire life." Diane surveyed the place as if she had been gone for six months.

Kurt took her by the hand and led her to the living room. The couch had two blankets and an extra pillow waiting for her.

"I figured you wouldn't want to climb the stairs." Kurt shrugged.

"You guessed correctly," her laugh startling Kurt. How could she be so calm? So at ease?

Lowering herself down to the couch, she pulled a blanket over her legs and patted a spot for Kurt to join her.

"Alright, mister, you have been silent the whole way home. I know this is weird, to say the least, but I have become so use to you talking to me over the past couple of months. What's going on?" Diane positioned her body so that she wouldn't have to strain to see is facial expressions. He lifted her feet onto his lap and took a seat. Sighing to himself, he couldn't help but let her behind his walls.

"I've only just gotten you back. These few days have...have really scared me," He spoke softly, making eye contact at last.

"You...…it's..."

He couldn't finish. Diane just stared. She had never seen him so rattled. He pressed on, knowing that she needed to hear what he was feeling.

"Annie, I've wasted so much time." He stated emphatically, shaking his head and continuing, "We could have been living happily for almost six years now. But, I had to go and fuck it up." Diane snaked her hand into his and sat up further.

"When you were laying there in the ambulance, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to keep making it up to you." He just couldn't seem to keep her gaze.

"You've already done that, Kurt. And I'm right here. You haven't lost me." Diane tried to steer the conversation back to the positive.

Kurt nodded as she laid back on the couch. He placed her feet on the cushion and knelt down beside the sofa, closer to her face.

"Do you remember that promise we both made after my accident?" He asked, not expecting her to recall.

"The one where we both promised to stay out of the hospital?" Her smile broadened and he nodded. "Though I believe we promised not to _do_ anything that would put us in the hospital. This I couldn't exactly have prevented. But, yes, I remember." He just smiled and looked at her, grateful he still could.

"I almost asked you and Marissa to stay in the office with me. I had an odd feeling," she began slowly, "But I'm glad I didn't. Marissa could have gotten hurt." She left the rest of the sentence hanging before she spoke again.

"Or you." Her voice cracking.

Silence took over once more.

"Thank you." At last, Diane cut through the still air.

Kurt's inquisitive look edged her to explain further.

"For taking care of me." She spoke shyly. A simple laugh brought Kurt a feeling of ease for the first time in four days. Of course he would take care of her. He only wishes he could have protected her, somehow preventing this trauma.

Kurt shrugged, "You're my person, Diane."

She laughed lightly, careful not to disturb her stitches.

"I can't remember the last time I cried happy tears." She spoke as she brought her hand to his cheek, wiping his own tears with her thumb, "And I can't recall a single time I have ever seen you cry." He laughed too.

They sat there, laughing, for an absurd amount of time. Laughing away the stress and the pain. Laughing with hope that things would stay just like this moment. Laughing because they couldn't cry anymore. Laughing for each other. Once they finished their temporary flourish of joy, Kurt leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Careful not to press any of the wrong places and not move her too quickly, Kurt scooped his wife into his arms. He felt her melt at his touch and she deepened the kiss, desperately wanting his arms surrounding her.

Though she would never speak it out loud, she knew she needed Kurt. Diane had come to terms with this fact about three months after they were married. He had been staying at her place when one morning she woke and rolled over to find him facing her, still fast asleep. She remembers beginning to weep for the life that she never knew she desired. A husband who adores her, challenges her, and supports her. And there he laid. Sleeping in front of her. The rest of the morning was a frenzy of kisses and repeated "I love you's." She was constantly reminded of this memory after they separated. Every little thing, every little nuance reminded her of him. But none of that mattered now. They were together and neither of them had any plans for leaving.

So, there they stayed, wrapped in each other's embrace, kissing like they had never kissed before. Exploring each other's mouths as if they were strangers. The butterflies in Diane's stomach were a welcomed sensation compared to the ache that constantly gnawed at her attention.

"Kurt–"

"Are you ok?" He pulled back.

"No. Yes. Yes, I'm fine. I just need you to know that I love you. And I don't tell you nearly enough." She ran her fingers through his hair.

Shaking his head, he spoke sincerely, "Thank you for letting me love you." Kurt leaned back toward Diane and placed soft kisses on her neck.


	4. Chapter 4

With her stamina slowly returning, Diane began to resume small tasks. This particular morning, she turned her attention to making coffee. Kurt sat at the table facing the bay windows that filled the apartment with light. It was Saturday, a particularly chilly one, in late November. Diane managed to keep warm in one of Kurt's flannels as she carried the two mugs to the table. She lingered at the doorway watching her husband read the paper. Closing the distance, she set the two mugs down and placed her hands on his shoulders letting her fingers drift up and down his arms. Tilting his head back, he looked up at her tousled hair surrounding her face.

Kissing his forehead, Diane took a seat beside him, propping her legs up onto his lap. Kurt folded the paper and removed his reading glasses.

"Thank you for the coffee." He sipped and rubbed her feet with his free hand.

"How are you feeling?" He didn't want to come across too pushy, but he's been watching her like a hawk for the past two weeks since the accident. The doctors informed him that there was always a risk of infection which had put Kurt's attention on high alert.

"Sore." She pulled the paper toward her and put on his glasses, having left hers in the bedroom.

"Did you see they still haven't found him," she continued, referring to her attacker.

"I was just reading about it. I wouldn't be surprise if he fled to Canada." His hand rubbed up and down her lower leg.

"Well, if they can't find him, I would rather he be in a different country than still in Chicago."

Kurt didn't reply, silently agreeing with her.

The couple drank their coffee, Kurt gazing out the window, and Diane solemnly reading the articles. This vaguely resembled normalcy for the pair. Enjoying their Saturdays at this very table discussing headlines, cases, or telling stories. In most cases, they would end up back in bed or on the couch (if they couldn't wait long enough to make it to the bedroom) Except this was anything but normal.

"I need to go into the office today." Her eyes didn't leave the paper, knowing she would be met with a worried gaze.

"Don't look at me like that." She lowered the paper, but continued to read.

"You aren't even looking at me." He chuckled.

Flashing her eyes toward him, she squeezed the paper, "See!" She folded the paper and quickly got up from the table.

Turning his neck, he continued to chuckle, "I just don't think you need to push yourself until—"

Diane clutched the door frame to steady herself. Kurt jumped up and grabbed her arm as she leaned into him.

"—until you stop taking the antibiotics."

Diane kept silent, giving Kurt a hard side eye and a light elbow in the ribs. Picking up on her annoyance, he attempted to offer a solution.

"Why don't I drive you?" Her eyes brightened, the dizziness had passed, and she headed for the stairs to get dressed. Pausing, she backtracked and placed a kiss on Kurt's cheek.

Kurt knew he was not the cause of her annoyance. He was careful not to hover, an instinct he knew would drive her up a wall. Her grumpy demeanor came from wanting to get her life back to normal. She had remained the calm one durning all the mess and by taking things one day at a time, she was able to keep her worry at bay. Her assailant was no where to be found, which meant he could potentially hurt her again. But, what truly kept her up at night was the fear that he might go after Kurt. The man wanted her to suffer, he had said so himself, and she was terrified that he would hurt the one thing she loved most.

—-

The short drive to the firm didn't allow much conversation. Diane spent most of it on the phone reassuring a client that she would take care of this and that. At least that is what it sounded like from Kurt's prospective. Pulling into the parking garage, Diane ended the call and turned to Kurt.

"So, I was thinking that you could come up with me. I'll only be about 45 minutes and I could use your advice on a certain case." He nodded simply, eager to be of assistance.

Only later would Diane reveal that she just wanted to keep him in her sight, as silly as it seemed. Plus, she truly did need his expertise.

The pair stepped into the elevator and found themselves alone. Saturdays eliminate the crowds that are usually flocking to the elevator at this hour. She slipped her fingers into his palm. He glanced at her face to rule out another dizzy spell, but her eyes were calm. Almost normal.

Two men in suits entered the elevator on the 13th floor. One carried a briefcase and spoke loudly into a phone while the other gave a friendly nod to Kurt. The man prevented any eye contact with Diane.

With a ding, the elevator opened and Diane stepped into the firm's lobby. A hush fell over the room as people turned in Diane's direction, surprised to see that she had returned. Adrian stepped around the corner, briefcase in hand and coat on, as he spoke loudly into his cell phone. As his eyes fell on Diane, he paused.

"I'm gonna have to call you back," he dropped his briefcase to the floor and raised his arms, "Diane!" He shouted and the room erupted into applause.

Her face flushed. She gave a meek smile as Adrian gave her a tentative hug, careful not to disturb her bruises. Maia and Marissa came speeding around the corner, both enveloping her in a hug.

"It's so good to see you." The two women gushed.

Before she could respond, Adrian intervened, "I will be back in an hour. I am so late for court. The emergency injunction for the Tracy Scott case." He gave Diane a kiss on the cheek and boarded the elevator.

The fuss subsided and Diane made her way to her office, only to be met with even more flowers.

"They haven't stopped coming," Maia said as the four of them stood in the doorway gawking at the amount of greenery.

"Well, first thing tomorrow, we clear out the greenhouse. I just stopped by to pick up a few files and have Kurt look over the Patterson murder." She slowly maneuvered through the forest and Marissa removes the vases from her desk.

"Kurt, could you give me a hand?" Marissa practically begged as she attempted to carry three large vases. He picked up a few more and filled her into the hallway.

"I heard about the Moseley case. Congratulations." Diane leaned on the edge of her desk, but after a chill ran through her spine, she move to sit in her chair.

"Oh, well you pretty much left us with the strategy. We just got lucky with the evidence, that's all." Maia brushed off the complement.

"Maia," Diane took her hand, "You did a good job. Thank you."

Maia looked down and smiled, "You're welcome."

Diane tunes to the file cabinets and began digging through them.

"So how are you really? I know I saw you a few days ago, but you seem to be in good spirits."

Diane turned and sighed. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be feeling. Sure, there was physical pain that was a constant reminder, but she had been focusing all her energy on recuperating.

"I think I'm ok." Maia squinted in confusion.

"You think?"

"I think Kurt is more rattled than I am. He's being so careful not to get on my nerves it's almost comical." Diane, having found the desired file, sat back down in the chair.

"But how are _you_?"

Diane dug deep, finding that emotional spot that hurt worse than her wound. She sucked in air through her teeth and looked up at Maia. If she hadn't spent the past few nights silently crying in fear, she would have broken down right there. But there were no more tears for the moment.

"I'm terrified."

Finally speaking the words out loud, she felt a small weight lift off her shoulders as she continued.

"I can't lose him."

"Kurt?"

Diane nodded slowly.

"What makes you think you'd lose him?" Maia hated seeing her godmother this distraught.

"The assailant said he wanted me to suffer like he did. His wife died," she paused, "They haven't found him yet and until they do I think I will be a nervous wreck."

Maia was at a loss for words. She reached for Diane's hand and she gratefully accepted the gesture. Maia noticed the bruises from the multiple IV lines.

"But I would never say that to him. I couldn't."

Her office door sung open as Marissa and Kurt walked in, both wore solemn expressions.

"What happed?" Diane asked, looking back and forth between the two.

"Oh. Nothing. Why?" Marissa forced a smile.

Diane was the first to break the silence with a long exhale.

"Well then. Let's begin with Patterson."

Kurt and Marissa glanced at each other. They couldn't tell her just yet.


	5. Chapter 5

_Diane: Can you pick up my dress and your tux?_

 _Kurt: I'm leaving in fifteen minutes. I'll pick them up by noon._

Diane smiled at her phone as her door opened. Liz's annoyed disposition only fueled Diane's

"Jack Bradley is here to discuss the divorce." Liz rolled her eyes.

"Oh boy. He still hasn't signed?" Diane placed her phone down and began scooping up her files. Liz only shook her head.

"I'm on my way," Diane sighed and stood.

Liz started out, but turned back to poke her head into the room.

"You feeling up to the gala tonight?"

"Absolutely."

Liz let the door close as Diane prepared to join her in the conference room.

The annual Illinois Bar Association Gala was set for that evening at 7:30 sharp and Diane was simply amazed at the small amount of convincing that it took to get Kurt to join her. She was tired of sitting at home and she truly did feel better, if she didn't push herself. Having returned to work two days ago, she was slammed with both current and ongoing cases. This evening would be a much needed break. However, she was not looking forward to answering the "How are you feeling?" questions. Kurt would be the perfect buffer for the faux sympathy that her fellow lawyers would be throwing her way. She knew they were just glad this hadn't happened to them.

Leaving her office, she passed her assistant.

"Marissa, would you bring—are you alright?" Marissa didn't respond, consumed with digging through the drawers of her desk.

"Marissa." Her head shot up at the sound of Diane's voice. And she quickly shoved the drawer closed.

"Sorry, um, what did you say?" Flustered was the first word that came to Diane's mind as she squinted her eyes in confusion.

"I was going to ask if you would bring the Bradley notes to the conference room...are you alright?" She looked Marissa up and down, but before the young woman could respond Adrian's voice bellowed her name from across the hall.

"I'll get right on that," Marissa hastily covered as she ducked away from their encounter. Puzzled, Diane continued on her path.

—

As the day progressed, 2:30 rolled around.

Diane picked up her office phone and dialed Kurt's number. No answer. Voicemail. A quick text would have to suffice.

 _Diane: Did you pick up the dress and tux?_

Two more clients passed through her doors and she finally checked the clock which read 3:45. Dialing Kurt's number again, she waited for his voice. No answer. Voicemail.

"Kurt, if you get this, give me a call. I'll see you in a bit." She hung up the phone, her hand lingering on the receiver.

Diane joined Maia and Adrian in the conference room around 4:00 as they finished briefs for a deposition happening the next day.

It was 4:39 when she glanced at her watch. Stepping out of the glass walls, she caught Marissa.

"Did Kurt return my call?" Diane spoke as she held Marissa's wrist.

"Was he suppose to?" She responded, taking note of the grip Diane had on her arm.

Diane felt nauseous. She let go of Marissa without a word and entered her office. Picking up the desk phone she dialed the familiar number as she checked her own phone for any texts. No answer. Voicemail.

"Ok, judging by your death grip on my wrist just now and your pale skin, I'm going to guess you can't get a hold of him." Marissa approached tentatively.

"I've called him three times and and sent a text. I assume he is home by now, but he's not answering." Diane slammed the phone down a touch harder than she meant to, causing Marissa to flinch.

"It's probably paranoia. But...you know...I can't help but think..."

"I'll call the lab and see if he is still there." Marissa interrupted, leaving the room.

Diane gave it one more shot and dialed his number again, suppressing her fear to let the rational part of her brain take over. He could have his phone on silent. His phone may have died without his knowledge. Maybe he left his phone at the lab. Though logical explanations, none of them sounded like Kurt. No answer. Voicemail.

"They said he left at 11:30." Marisa reentered the office.

Diane stared at her, as white as a ghost. She blinked and had a thought.

"I'll call the cleaners and ask if my order was picked up." Reaching for the phone, she dialed the number written on a small piece of paper.

Marissa nodded and sat down across from her boss. Her mind whirled as she questioned whether or not this was the time to follow the detailed instructions Kurt had given her. After all, he could have just left his phone on silent. She heard Diane sigh and thank the person on the other line, snapping her back to reality.

Diane leaned back against her chair and clutched the phone to her chest.

"He never picked it up." Her heart sank hearing herself say it out loud.

"Diane, I'm sure it's nothing—" Marissa tried to soothe her trepidations.

"But he wouldn't not answer. At least not now with everything going on." Diane zipped her purse and stood to grab her coat.

"Where are you going?"

Diane turned around, he voice cracking, "To see if he's home. Can you drive me? I haven't been released to drive yet."

Marissa nodded and reached for her own coat.

Diane impatiently pressed the elevator button several times before it finally reached their floor. It paused to let a gentleman on at the 13th floor, then continued downward to the parking garage. They all stepped off the elevator and momentarily walked in the same direction, until the man veered down a line of cars after giving a kind nod to Marissa.

Marissa opened the car door and they both climbed in. Diane tried Kurt's cell once more as Marissa drove in silence. This was getting weird, Marissa thought to herself, but the man in the suit had nodded, so everything must be fine. She gripped the steering wheel and tried not to show her own bubbling concern.

As they turned onto Diane's street, she clutched the seatbelt.

"His car is here," Marissa said, stating the obvious.

Diane nodded, taking a deep breath, "Thank God."

She was out of the car before Marissa could put it in park. Moving quicker than her injury favored, she pulled the key from her purse. Marissa was only a few paces behind, catch up with her as she fumbled with the lock. Pushing open the door, she called his name. Once. Twice. Three times. As Diane went from room to room, her shouts became more frantic. Realizing he was not anywhere in the apartment, she stepped into the kitchen where Marissa was waiting with an envelope in hand.

Diane stood there shaking and her complexion had turned pasty once again. Marissa was across the room in seconds as Diane's balance began to waver.

"Ok, let's just sit down for a second," she spoke in a manufactured calming voice as she led Diane to a chair next to the island.

"He won't answer his phone, he didn't leave a note, his car is here, it's been over five hours since anyone has seen him. I don't understand..."

"Maybe he walked down the street and left his phone here." Marissa and Diane paused. Diane slowly took out her cell and dialed his number. They remained silent and still. No answer. Voicemail.

"So, his phone isn't in the house." Marissa broke the silence.

Dread was etched across Diane's face as she locked eyes with Marissa. Noticing the envelope on the island, she reached for it.

Marissa blocked her attempt and snatched the envelope before Diane could pick it up.

"Marissa."

"I need to explain a few things before you read this." Marissa pulled up another chair and sat next to Diane.

"Marissa." Diane's warning tone urged her to proceed.

"First of all, we agreed not to tell you. Kurt said he would take care of it and he didn't want you to worry." Diane leaned in, eyeing the envelop once again.

"You started getting these letters a few days after you got out of the hospital. They came to the firm first and then—"

The sound of a car door being shut was heard outside and the pair immediately rushed to the door. Marissa, having reached it first, opened it, letting the dusky light flood the room.

"Diane? I didn't think you'd be home until—" were all the words he was able to get out before Diane flung her arms around his neck. Kurt, surprised, and a bit confused, wrapped his arms around her waist as the cab drove away behind them.

"Well hello to you too." He whispered in her ear. It only took him a few seconds of holding her to realize that she was crying. He pulled her hands from his neck and tilted his head to study her fatigued features.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"Where have you been!" Diane's heart pounded, "I've called you at least five times! You didn't pick up the stuff and you weren't here but your car was and I couldn't help but think that something had happened and I've been worried sick trying to figure out where you were and if you were ok—"

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down." Kurt put an end to her run on sentence.

Diane looked down at her hands, which were intertwined with his, and then back up to his eyes.

"Why didn't you answer?" She asked, calmer, no longer angry.

"I had to meet with someone and I had to turn off my phone. Then when I finished, I just didn't turn it back on, that's all." He smoothed her coat across her shoulders.

"Who?! And what's with this letter? What are you keeping from me?" Diane's fear resurfaced and she turned to Marissa who was standing in the doorway.

"Another letter?" Kurt asked dejectedly. Marissa walked swiftly towards the pair.

"It had come through the mail slot." She handed him the envelope, leaving Diane silently perplexed.

"Ok." Kurt exhaled and rubbed his forehead, "Let's go inside. This doesn't look like it's going to end anytime soon."


	6. Chapter 6

"Nine letters!?" This was too much for Diane to take in all at once.

"They came to the office first. You were still recovering and I didn't want to slow anything down. So I told Kurt." As Marissa spoke she could feel her voice becoming more tentative as Diane's expression dropped.

She stared at the counter, not realizing her knuckles were turning white with the sheer force of her grasp on the marble.

"And then we started getting them here. After the fourth one, I consulted an agent." Kurt continued cautiously, waiting for her to blow at any moment.

"An FBI agent?" She clarified, not raising her gaze.

"Yes. A friend of mine. I asked him to look into this guy and..."

"And what, Kurt. No secrets." Her eyes bore into his.

"And he's a suspected domestic terrorist." Kurt watched closely, gaging her reaction. A single blink was all he was allowed to see. Her stomach turned in somersaults.

"After his wife died, he went nuts. Fell into a bad place and took money where he could. The Damask Gang got to him and he started doing their dirty work. He's got access to hundreds of weapons." Marissa chimed in, helping to fill in the gaps. Though she wasn't sure that statement would put Diane's mind at ease.

Diane took a step away from the counter and transitioned into a pace. The severity of the situation setting in. This was her life they were talking about. Her life that was suppose to have been taken away a mere few weeks ago. If it hadn't been for Kurt's perfect timing, they wouldn't be sitting in this kitchen.

"They don't think his vendetta against you has much to do with the gang, but he's wanted for a lot of deaths. The FBI thought it would be best to put you under protection." Kurt wanted to get everything on the table, meanwhile kicking himself for not telling her earlier.

"Surveillance?!" Diane spun around.

"You didn't even notice them. They were just placed to keep you safe. And when the letters continued coming—"

"I started taking all of them to the lab for prints. But, so far, they can't find anything." Kurt finished Marissa's thought.

Diane, still absorbing, returned to her bar stool. She nodded slowly.

"What did the letters say?" She asked softly, her shaky voice unrecognizable to even herself.

Marissa and Kurt hesitated. He spoke first, "The first ones were direct threats to you. Describing..." he couldn't bring himself to finish.

"Describing what he would do to you if...you know." Marissa had dreaded this explanation.

Kurt stared at the counter. Diane slipped her hand into his urging him to continue.

"Then they got more specific. Like he was watching you. So I upped the security and was meeting with them today to discuss their plan on moving forward."

Diane's spine chilled and she visibly shuttered at the thought of her every move being monitored.

"So that's where I was today. I didn't think it would take all afternoon and I didn't mean to scare you."

Diane blinked and shook her head. She could not remember a time when she had felt that petrified. The feeling was sickening.

"That day that I went back to the office. When the two of you looked like you'd seen a ghost? I'd already gotten a letter?"

Marissa held up three fingers causing Diane's eyes to widen.

"And now this one." Marissa held up the newest envelope. Kurt quickly took it and ripped the side. Unfolding the letter, he scanned it, his expression turning glum.

"What does it say?" Diane inched closer.

Kurt looked over the paper and gave an audible sigh.

"It's about me." Diane snatched the letter from his grasp and felt her heart sink as she read.

 _I'm becoming impatient. I can't sit around all day and watch you prance around. You want this to go away. Fine. Let's make a deal. That husband of yours seems like a fair trade. A life for a life. Justice._

The sound of Baker's voice pounded through her ears. _Justice_. His last word before he thrust the cold blade into her abdomen. Dizziness set in and she held onto the island. Kurt was on his feet before she could think, steadying her body with one hand resting on her back and the other holding her shoulder. Marissa jumped up and poured a glass of water.

"Look, nothing is going to happen. We are under 24-hour protection and this damn fool wouldn't dare get close to you."

She hadn't noticed the tears pooling in her eyes until they spilled freely. "But it sounds like he's not afraid to come after you."

Kurt looked to Marissa who shrugged in empathy. "Could you give us a minute."

She gave a nod and took the letter into the living room.

"This is unfair to you," she whispered, "It's so unfair."

"He won't get to you. I won't let him." Kurt squeezed her hand and leaned in to find her eyes.

The guilt was unbearable. This never should have involved him. Diane sat up abruptly and pulled away. Standing and straightening her skirt, she wiped sharply at her cheeks. "You have to go."

She turned on her heels and headed for the bedroom.

"What are you talking about?" Kurt called after her, "Diane."

When he reached the bedroom, she was pulling out clothes from the closet and dresser. The pile on the bed was growing by the second.

"Woah, woah, Diane stop." Kurt approached her as she brushed passed him on the way to the closet once more. Another pile of shirts was tossed at the bed.

"You can't stay somewhere that isn't safe." The tears were back and her hands were shaking.

Kurt did the only thing he thought would help. He intercepted her next cross to the dresser and wrapped his arms around her. Stronger than she was, he was able to pull her close with barely any struggle. She resisted at first, whimpering at his contact, but finally relaxed into his embrace. Her knees could not hold the weight of her exhaustion and they buckled just as Kurt moved them to sit on the bed. She sat with a gasp and immediately sucked air through her teeth. Realizing she had twisted and disturbed her heeling abdomen, Kurt let her go slightly.

"Are you ok?" He squeezed her shoulders.

She started to nod, responding to the present question, but soon found herself shaking her head no. It was hard for her to distinguish what was shaking more; her hands, head, or thoughts.

"I'm not going anywhere. That's final." Her head was resting against his chest as her body came down from its sudden adrenaline high.

Diane couldn't will herself to speak. Her breathing returned to her version of normal and the pain in her stomach caught her attention. Wincing, she sat up from his arms.

"I might have overdone it." She stood and moved to the floor-length mirror. Pulling up her shirt, the bruises were revealed, still every shade from blue to yellow. Her stitches, dominating the left half of her exposed stomach, remained intact. They would continue to dissolve as the weeks progressed, according to her doctor, but they provided a constant reminder.

Kurt's eyes followed her and soon his body did the same. Taking one wrist, he freed her from the mirror's reflection. Placing her on the bed, he began returning the clothes to their drawers and hangers. Diane watched her husband tidy up the carnage of her panic.

"I just can't watch you get hurt." She spoke after a few moments of silence.

"Who said anything about getting hurt?" He kneeled in front of the bed.

"We can't predict his next move. And if it was you I would never forgive my–"

Her sentence was severed by the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen. They froze, not breathing until they heard Marissa's voice, "Sorry! Trying to get another glass of water!"

Restarting their breath patterns, they started chuckling at their paranoia.

"Look at us," Diane remarked. Cupping his face, she continued as her smile faded, "This is fucking insane."


End file.
